A Forgotten Promise
by Demon Pharaoh 92
Summary: A young elf, Eruthiawen, is forced out of the one place she can remember by orcs. She goes to Rivendell and meets Legolas. She feels like she knows him, but she can not remember anything about her past.


_Author's Note/Disclaimer:_I don't own Lord of the Rings as much as I wish I did I don't. I am writing this for fun and so I have something to do during my free time. My friend is editing it for me so it will probably take a while for me to put up new chapters. I think that's all I have to say besides I hope you enjoy it. Like my friend says in her note my story takes place at the time of Saruman's betrayal at Isengard. Thank you for reading!

_Editor's Notes:_ This story takes place at the time of Saruman's betrayal at Isengard in the book, The Fellowship of the Ring. Also since I heard that people had problems with it being "I" related I say thus. Having the person be referred to as "I" means it's in 1st person and definitely acceptable in any terms of literature. Thanks.

A Forgotten Promise

Chapter One: A Lost Memory 

I felt my nose twitch and scrunch up at the smell around me. It was thick and dense, much like the smoke that covered the villages of men that had been raided by Orcs. Wait. I sat up rapidly and relied solely on my senses. Nothing but smoke and screams registered… The town had to be on fire. Could it have been by attack?

Not caring to think twice, I swung my legs out of bed – a foolish mortal possession of one of a race that does not sleep. My bare feet padded lightly upon the wooden flooring as I raced to grab my bow and arrows. Finally, I flew out of the house and into the fray. I watched with helpless eyes as men were cut down about me, my feathered arrows doing little to turn the tides of battle. Still I felt a determined smirk settle upon my lips as I let loose arrow after arrow into the filthy Orcs. However, I kept an eye out for women and children who hopefully had already fled the ruined town.

I grimaced, shaking my hand in hopes to rid it of a tingling sensation. Blood seeped from my pointer finger. Damn arrowhead. My legs quivered beneath me. Defeat sounded from all sides but defiance flared within me, an odd emotion for a delicate female elf.

"I think this is the one Saruman wants."

Jumping at the sound of the rough words, I whirled around into the arms of a pair of hideous Orcs. Their blackish muscle strewn arms bound my own movement and turned me to face a particularly heinous fellow with a white handprint slapped across his face.

"What's your name, girl?" it purred, or rather tried too.

I scrunched up my face in disgust and spat in his face all the while kicking the two Orcs relentlessly in hopes of freedom. I watched the Urukai swipe an arm across his face before glaring all me, all fangs bared.

"I will ask you one more time. What is your name?" he growled, spitting back in my face.

I frowned. "If you must know it is Eruthiawen."

"We take her to Saruman. She is the one he wants." The one orc said in a rush.

They obeyed his command immediately, gathering their party of Orcs and me to march to Isengard. The journey was horrible and I was somewhat relieved to see Isengard not yet completely tainted by the betrayal of the white wizard, Saruman. Despite my inner wanton to roam about the halls of the elaborate tower, the Orcs, in more of a hurry than I, took me immediately to Saruman himself. I felt my senses numb as I looked into the steely eyes of the once white wizard, his snake like words slithering in and out of my ears. I listened half-heartedly, still strung between my two captors, as his plans of destruction wove about my mind, his eyes never truly leaving my form. Yet despite his silvery words, I refused blatantly at having anything to do with him, let alone Sauron. I watched stoically as his lips curled maddeningly and with a flip of a hand – I soon found myself thrown against the cold granite of the top of the tower.

I assumed it had to be cold for vainly sheltered in one of the spikes that rose out of the top of the tower was Gandalf the Gray. He looked worn but not defeated. I quickly found my voice.

"Gandalf, how are we going to escape?" I whispered. "He leaves us at the top, succeeding at cutting off all hope. What is left?"

His expression did not change, but deep within his eyes I swore that I saw a spark of defiance.

"Eruthiawen." His voice is age laden but toned with reassurance. "Do not worry. I have sent for help. Soon we will be in Rivendell, safe from him."

Days pass as we hope desperately for the Eagles to finally arrive. Below us, we watch as Saruman creates his minions and the evil begins to literally seep out of Isengard. Finally one day the Eagles came to our rescue and we began our flight to Rivendell.

Still something stops me. An innate urge causes me to halt and assess the situation. Gandalf waits calmly by the Eagles who perch proudly on the edge.

"Gandalf, will they accept me?" My voice takes a tone of exasperation. "Even though I am not completely like them?"

Gandalf comes to guide me gently to an Eagle's back.

"Why do you still worry about such things? Lord Elrond is kind and will willingly help you. Do not fret, soon you will find a place of belonging." His smile is light. "We all do – some sooner than others.

My heart rekindles and I find my worry lessened. Slow but sure, we finally arrive in the elven village of Rivendell. Even though I am of their race – I tremble a little, wondering if the attitudes of the people were the same as in Lothlorien. Gandalf quickly secures me a room courtesy of another elf.

I cannot help but to let my mouth hang open at the sight of the room. It is utterly beautiful with elaborate wood work and ornate textures of curtains and spreads. But as I walk out onto the balcony adjoined to my room, beauty truly reigned. Plenty of houses rose out of the cliffs and a rushing river ran and cascaded down a magnificent water fall.

"Eruthiawen."

I turn to see Gandalf staring at me amusedly from the threshold.

"Rest now. Would you like to be woken or left to rest when a meal is prepared?" he asks gently.

I pretend to ponder. "I think I would like to be woken up since I have not had much to eat in a while."

"Then you will want to clean yourself up. There will be many people at dinner from different parts of Middle-earth."

As he turns to leave me I can't but wonder about my fate. Why was I here? What caused the battle in the mortal town I lived in? Why could I never remember anything before living in that town? In desperation I ball my fists up, my fingernails biting into my palms.

"Gandalf… why is it I can not remember my past?" my voice shakes. "I don't want to…leave a wrong impression."

He shakes his head solemnly. "Eruthiawen, you know I can not tell you. I understand your feelings but I must not tell you. You must remember on your own."

"But… how can you stand there and say you can't tell me? I want to know who I am and what I am. Can you answer either of those?" I am almost yelling. "Or even just who my parents are?"

"Eruthiawen," he says in a calming voice, "You know you are who you decide to be. Your parents I cannot reveal. Someday – you will know."

And suddenly I am empty. The frustration drains from me leaving me only wanton for some rest. I watch him leave with out so much as a whisper and start to clean up. I change into a nightgown that had been laid upon my bed and snuggle beneath the covers to find warmth and sleep ready to embrace me.

However light greets me too soon for my liking. The servant quips me with instructions to get ready and reluctantly I do begin to dress. With almost a girlish glee, I pick a dress of my liking out of the wardrobe. It is light green taffeta, smooth and lovely to the touch. I feel a faint prickling of a memory at the back of my brain whilst I brush my long hair. It reminded me of the village, I presume, before the fire. Tired, I resolve to leave my hair down not wanting to bother with something elaborate.

Now I am ready for supper. My slippers pad the floor softly and remind me I am alone in this great construct. In the silence thoughts come to me in a rush about the people I will soon meet…that was – if I could get there in the first place. Finally casual chatter greets my ears and I know an inner sense of direction won out in the end.

Gandalf meets me at the door and leads me in. To my dismay he leads me to sit beside him and a hobbit like creature. I blanch – social situations are definitely not my forte. Throughout the meal I pick at the food on my plate, too nervous to stomach anything. Yet I find it easy to talk to the hobbit anyway. He informs me that his name is Frodo and tells me of a place called the "Shire" and his life before his journey to Rivendell. His stories make me feel nice because for once no one is looking at me in fear. After dinner many people stay and listen to stories and songs, but the need to get some fresh air pulls at me strongly. I get up smoothly, leaving word with Gandalf on my whereabouts and leave, trying to stifle the feeling that I'm being watched.

Once I am outside I take a deep breath of fresh air. The moonlight glistens down on everything making it look almost ethereal. I let my mind wander and it soon leads me to a serene landscape of forest. The moonlight sifts through the boughs, making the bits of pebbles on the earth shimmer elegantly. A smile flits upon my face as I settle to the ground beneath a gnarly tree. I rest against it, closing my eyes to let the peace of everything around me fill my soul. However, the mood is interrupted by a presence that ensnares my senses. My eyes fly open to still a blond haired elf watching me with a kind smile.

"I am sorry I frightened you m'lady."

His speech is fluent and I can't help but return a smile. "No, it is fine. I just didn't expect company."

"My name is Legolas." He places a hand gently upon his chest. "What is your name, fair one?"

I watch him settle beside me with a shocked expression.

"Legolas…" I turn the name over on my tongue. "You mean as in Prince Legolas of Mirkwood?

A twinge of pink upon his cheeks alerts me to his embarrassment. "Yes, the same. But please just call me Legolas. Formalities can be cast aside as far as I'm concerned."

"Then I ask you to call me Eruthiawen." My smile threatens to engulf me as he reaches for my hand to kiss. "It – it is a pleasure to meet you."

His eyes are gentle and smiling, yet oddly familiar. The sensation was like finding something you had been looking for, deeming it lost, and then rediscovering it. I see something else in his eyes too - like he is searching me too for some invisible answer. I decide to look into his mind just to see what he was thinking.

Pictures and thoughts race by me. I can feel his heart beating fast and his brain throbbing in his attempts to recall memories. I feel emotions of doubt, disbelief, and then the striking yet wonderful feeling of hope.

I pull away from his thoughts, feeling a blush color my face as I recognize I definitely crossed a line on privacy. Legolas sidles closer to me. Now he was invading my privacy? But for some reason my heart starts to race while my brain screams in confusion. I don't really know him! Then again…I ponder…maybe I did. It could have been in the gaping holes of my memory. What was our relationship? I can not remember anything, but for some reason I feel a small ray of hope shining…that someday, I will recover my memories.

I look into his eyes once more. They are only inches away from my own. I can feel his breath on my lips. Before my brain can reason with my body, I kiss him. The kiss is short but lingering and shocking to both of us. Legolas looks into my eyes for answers that I can not give him. He leans in once more kissing me lightly to see if I will return the kiss this time. I was about to pull away from him when I realize the kiss feels right. My brain seems to be turned off as I put my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. His hands are light and start to roam across my body making my mind work once again. My brain screams for both reason and oxygen, so I push him away. I knew I wanted to continue but I had a duty to myself and to him to piece together our relationship as it once was.

"Legolas." My lips quiver. "I'm so sorry."

I clamber shakily to my feet, clenching my dress as if for strength.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have any memory of you or really anything about my life. I …" my strength to stand up for myself wavers but I push on. "I can't do this until I either know you better or my memories come back. I must go."

I give him a shaky last smile before turning to run. My lithe form flits around the trees and it feels as if my feet barely touch the earth. My heart thunders within my chest, confused at the tumult of emotions coursing within me.

As soon as I am in my room I throw myself on to the bed and the tears that I willed to stay stifled in front of Legolas begin to pour. I hear a knock at the door and ignore it, hoping who ever it was would leave me alone. Much to my dismay they do not.

"Eruthiawen, why did you not answer when I knocked?"

I know without looking that it is Gandalf, yet I shakily turn to face him.

"Eruthiawen, what is wrong?" his voice is laden with concern.

"Gandalf, I'm so confused." I will myself to stop crying. "I have these strange feelings for someone and I do not understand it. I feel so safe with him, but I can't remember anything at all about him. Yet he seems to know me! What should I do Gandalf? He makes me feel so strange. I don't understand!"

"May I guess who it is?" he asks and I nod. "Legolas?"

I look at him in shock. He chuckles and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. His actions make my tears stop.

"Child, it is all right. Either when you find your memories or get to know him better you will find the answers you seek. Time changes and who are we to control it? Some things take time to understand. How you feel for someone develops over time. Legolas was probably forward because he remembers you. I know it may not be a real answer, but I think it would be best to wait it out and get to know him. He might just be the key to unlocking your memories." He says and the words are comforting.

"What if I'm not who I was?" My tears start to well. "What if he hates me because of it?"

Gandalf gives me a stern glance. "Do not ask such questions. He will like you no matter if you have changed or not. Legolas is not the type to just throw someone aside because they are different than when he first met them. Trust me he will feel however he did before he knew the change. Now get some rest. There is a council in the morning that you must attend. It is of great importance that you are there." he finishes and stands up.

"What is the council about? And why must I be there?"

"All will be revealed tomorrow. Rest now and do not wonder too much about tomorrow. You will find it comes quickly."

He gives me a small smile before turning to leave whence he came.

I let a sigh rack through me before resolving to move and wash my face. Delving into the shelves in my room, I finally procure a new nightgown. After pulling it one, I flop down onto my bed – letting the thoughts of the future overtake me. However, I don't get far for soon dreams greet me of the one person I fear to face again.


End file.
